


this is god's cat

by ienablu



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Life of Pi - All Media Types
Genre: Other, Post-Canon, brief anthromorphism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 00:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3957601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ienablu/pseuds/ienablu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard Parker meets Aslan in the forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is god's cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lassiterfics (Lassiter)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lassiterfics+%28Lassiter%29).



> This is the strangest fic I have ever written. Fully stylized version can be found [here](http://mienuxbleu.tumblr.com/post/119206476295/this-is-gods-cat) at my tumblr. Despite formatting that post, this was one of the most enjoyable writing experiences. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did.
> 
> Happy Birthday, Las my Las. <3

**no. 284**

You understand the land like you understood the water – deep, instinctual. You are now free. Free of the boat and free of the boy. You jump. The water is is cool against your fur. The sand is hot under your paws. You run for the trees, and you lose your balance. Land has become foreign to you. You wish to reacquaint yourself. You come to the edge of the forest. This is where you first see the lion.

 

**come now look upon the face of**

You wait. You don’t know why. 

_You know what you must do_. It comes from the lion – this great Lion – though you don’t know how. 

There is a part of you that knows of what this lion speaks, as there is a part of you that wishes to turn around, take one more look at the human boy; there is a part of you that is compelled to do so at the behest of the Lion.

Yet you walk into the forest.

You owe no ownership, you acknowledge no idols.

 

**no church in the wild**

You pass the Lion.

 _There is time_. His great voice disapproves.

You continue into the forest.

 

**out there in the middle of**

you find nothing in the forest. animals flee before you, ever to be seen again. trickles of water tease you, bring you to muddy banks with nothing to drink. the rocking of the boat continues, even as you stand still. birds trilling makes you sick. the long passage has ruined you. you were content in your change, but you never lost yourself. you have lost yourself now. you are weak.  
tired.  
hungry.  
thirsty.

 

**white light of agnostics**

You are familiar with giving up hope, and you are familiar with the defiant ember that does not. You find it difficult to move, to hunt.

A deer appears before you.

You growl at the Lion, fiercely angry at its presence amongst the trees showing the markings of your claws, your territory. But you know you cannot attack – far too weak, for one, but you understand what this Lion has done. _You saved my life._

The Lion dips his head. _I guess it’s mine then._

 

_**animalus anthropormorphicus** _

Down the street from the church, Richard Parker sips his coffee. Aslan has other concerns. Parishioners to talk to, faithful to reward, questioning to guide, faithless to counsel. 

But Richard Parker stays on his mind. He sets a large hand down on the arm of the small mousy man in front of him. One of his most faithful. Aslan apologizes, and his devotee squeaks his reassurances.

Golden eyes narrow at his approach.

 _You were not there_ , Aslan says, voice great but quiet but rumbling.

 _No_ , Richard Parker replies. 

Aslan asks nothing of his subjects. _I hope you are well._

 _I am_ , Richard Parker lies.

He does not believe in sin.

Aslan sets a hand on the crown of Richard Parker, and wishes to absolve him. 

 

**soft as it began**

_Who am I, you will ask. I was the marauder in Khulna who was mistaken as a jaguar. I was the elusive beast who waited out the villagers. I was the prey who drew your mother to Khulna. Yet I am–_

 

**words for dawn**

You circle the Lion. _Who are you?_

_Myself._

Brown dirt trembles under your paws.

_Who are you?_

_Myself._

Yellow light spreads across the skies.

_Who are you?_

_Myself._

Green leaves rustle in an invisible wind.

You quiver for reasons you do not understand. You crouch down, your head bowed between your paws.

 

**the nature of ascendancy**

Days pass.

Birds fly low.

Deer pass your path.

You run, you hunt, you feast.

At the stream the other animals bow, back up so to allow you the first drink. And you take the first, and the second, and the third. You draw your claws down any tree you like, and know none shall challenge you. This jungle is yours.

 

**just another territory**

You are lying on your side, belly pointed towards the stream. The sun filters through the leaves and beats down on you. When the heat grows from comfortably warm to unbearably warm, you lean over, and drink cool water.

You growl as Aslan appears on the other side of the stream.

He does not approach, only drinks from the stream, and lies down, his belly towards you are the stream. He stretches. His tail flicks lazily. His eyes are closed.

You set your head on your paws, watch, and let the heat of the sun warm you.

 

**questions of nationality**

Aslan appears before you the next day. _You know what you must do._

You lower your head. You do.

Aslan turns and walks off. You follow him. In the past days you have come to know this jungle. Trees bear the mark of your claws. Then, past your territory, deeper gouges, higher up. Once more, you bow your head.

The trees grow thicker together, but a bright light shines between them. You nudge aside soft ferns, shoulder your way between trunks. You lose sight of Aslan, but keep walking.

 

_**Π miss him. Π see him in my**_

The trees end, and you are in a desert. You turn around, and the trees have disappeared behind you. The sand creates waves beneath your paws. You follow Aslan. 

Aslan disappears, and instead there is a pool of water. You drink. You look up. 

The human boy stares at you.

You flick your ears back, return the stare. You flick your tail, turn and walk away.

 

**infinity times infinity**

You know the way back. Sand turns into sandy dirt, small weeds turn back into soft ferns. You return to your territory.

The full moon shines down on the stream as you drink. His reflection is haloed in light. _I hope you are well._

You are a hunter and you feed yourself, you are unchallenged and you drink as you like. You are free of the human boy, but for lingers. You are free of Aslan, but for rare moments. You are your own. _I am._

You rest.

 

  
  
_the end_  



End file.
